World’s First Triple Aircraft Hijack – 73rd Anniversary

První trojitý únos letadel na světě – 73. výročí

The most spectacular and largest escape from Communist Czechoslovakia took place on 24 March 1950. Early that morning three České Aerolinie [ČSA] Dakota DC3 passenger aircraft were hijacked in a pre-planned escape by eight former Czechoslovak RAF airmen to escape from Communist persecution, and flown to the US Air Force airbase at Erding in the American Zone of Germany.

Nejpozoruhodnější a nějvětší útěk z komunistického Českolsovenska se odehrál 24. března 1950. Skupina osmi bývalých československých letců RAF unesla brzy ráno tři osobní letadla Dakota DC3 Československých aerolinií (ČSA) v předem plánovaném útěku před komunistickou perzekucí, se kterými doletěli na základnu amerického letectva v německém Erdingu v americké zoně.

This was the world’s first triple aircraft hijack and the first escape from Czechoslovakia where the aircrew themselves hijacked the aircraft.

Šlo o první trojitý únos letadel na světě a rovněž o první útěk z Československa, kdy letadla unesli sami členové posádek.</em

The full story of this daring escape here and here

Celý příběh tohoto odvážného útěku najdete zde i zde

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Liberec – 30.03.2023.

Posted in 310 Sqd, 311 Sqd, 312 Sqd, 313 Sqd, 68 Sqd, Events, Forthcoming Events, Not Forgotton, Other RAF Squadrons | Leave a comment

Oldrich Kestler – 17.03.2023.

Posted in Ceremony, Events, Forthcoming Events, Not Forgotton, Other RAF Squadrons | Leave a comment

3rd Český čtyřlístek plaque unveiled


3. odhalena pamětní deska Českého čtyřlístku

The third memorial plaque for the Český čtyřlístek’ – the Czech four leaf clover – was unveiled on 4 March 2023 at Valašské Klobouky, the hometown of Josef Balejka.

Třetí pamětní deska “Českého čtyřlístku” byla odhalena 4. března 2023 v rodném městě Josefa Balejky, Valašských Kloboukách.

The event, held at the Základní škola at Valašské Klobouky was well attended with local dignitaries, well-wishers and various military re-enactors. Music and singing was provided by a folk-lore group.

Událost se odehrála v základní škole ve Valašských Kloboukách a byla hojně navštívena místními představiteli i občany, fanoušky letectví i členy různých reenaktorských skupin a spolků. O hudební doprovod se postaral místní folklórní soubor.

Several wreaths were then laid, including by Vladimír Ambros, on behalf of Otaslavice, Klub Vojenské Historie Otaslavice, the instigators of this series of memorial plaques and a bouquet by Brigita Petrášová on behalf of FCAFA.

Za Klub vojenské historie Otaslavice položil na místě věnec Vladimír Ambros. Tento klub stál za vznikem série pamětních desek věnovaných čtveřici československých pilotů sloužících u polské 303. stihací perutě. Za FCAFA pak umístila k desce pamětní kytičku Brigita Petrášová.

The first of this set of memorial plaques was unveiled in England at The Kent Battle of Britain Museum, Hawkinge on 6 September 2022. The second was unveiled at Otaslavice, the home town of Josef František, on 8 October 2022.

První z této řady desek byla odhalena v Anglii v Muzeu bitvy o Británii v Hawkinge 6. září 2022. Druhá, umístěná v Otaslavicích, rodišti Josefa Františka, byla odhalena 8. října 2022.

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The Český čtyřlístek: left to right top Vilém Košař and Matěj Pavlovič, bottom Josef Balejka, Josef František. / Český čtyřlístek: zleva doprava nahoře Vilém Košař a Matěj Pavlovič, dole Josef Balejka a Josef František

During the short Polish campaign of 1939 four Czechoslovak pilots: Josef Balejka, Josef František , Vilém Košař and Matěj Pavlovič, fought with distinction in that campaign and had become known as ‘Český čtyřlístek’ – the Czech four leaf clover.

V roce 1939, v kráké bitvě o Polsko bojovala i čtveřice českých pilotů Josef Balejka, Josef František, Vilém Košař a Matěj Pavlovič, která se stala známou jako Český čtyřlístek.

After their evacuation from Poland, with Polish Forces, they were evacuated to France and later, when France capitulated to England where they remained with the Polish Air Force and where Josef František and Vilém Košař’ flew in the Battle of Britain with 303 Sqn. Balejka and Pavlovič, were unable to complete their conversion to Hurricanes before the Battle finished on 31 October 1940.

Po porážce Polska byli spolu s polskými ozbrojenými silami evakuováni do Francie a po jejím pádu do Británie. Také zde zůstali přislušníky přílušníky polského letectva. Josef František a Vilém Košař bojovali v bitvě o Británii jako příslušníci 303. perutě, Balejka a Pavlovič nedokázali dokončit přeškolení na stroje Hawker Hurricane před koncem bitvy, tedy 10. říjnem 1940.

Of the four, only Josef Balejka was to survive the war:

Josef František, † 08/10/40, aged 26 / let

Vilém Košař, † 08/11/40, aged 32 / let

Matěj Pavlovič, † 20/04/41, aged 26 / let

A biography on Josef František here.

A biography on Josef Balejka here.

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Posted in Ceremony, Memorial, Not Forgotton, Personnel, Poland | 1 Comment

2023 Donation Appeal


YOUR HELP IS NEEDED PLEASE.



POTŘEBUJEME VAŠI POMOC PROSÍM.


FCAFA, The Free Czechoslovak Air Force Associates Ltd was founded in May 2010, and through our online resource – www.fcafa.com – we provide information about the Czechoslovak men and women who served in the RAF during WW2. It is now regarded as the world’s leading online resource for this information, with many of our articles now also in Czech. Currently, the website is approaching 1,000,000 pages read! with our readers viewing from all parts of the world.

FCAFA, The Free Czechoslovak Air Force Associates Ltd. byla založena v květnu 2010. Prostřednictvím svých webových stránek www.fcafa.com poskytujeme informace o československých mužích a ženách, kteří sloužili v RAF v průběhu 2. světové války. Dnes je považována ze vedoucí internetový zdroj těchto informaci, s řadou našich článků i v české verzi. V současné době se náš web blíží k 1 000 000 přečtených stran čtenáři z celého světa.

Our resources are respected by both the Czech and Slovak Embassies in London, Vojenský Ústřední Archiv (VUA – Military Archive) Prague, the National Library of the Czech Republic, and many researchers and students of this subject.

Naše zdroje jsou respektovány jak českým, tak slovenským velvyslanectvím v Londýně, Vojenským Ústředním Archivem (VÚA – vojenský archiv) v Praze, Národní knihovnou České republiky a řadou badatelů a studentů této tématiky.

So far we have published nearly 1100 articles on our website covering subjects from personnel lists, autobiographies, biographies, research sources, historical background information, squadron histories, aircraft data, aircraft lists, locations of all the 512 fallen Czechoslovak RAF airmen and woman, to medals awarded, locations of Memorials and Memorial plaques around the world where Czechoslovak RAF personnel are commemorated.

Do dnešní doby jsme na našem webu zveřejnili téměř 1100 článků na řadu témat, počínaje osobními záznamy, autobiografiemi, biografiemi, badatelskými zdroji, informacemi o historickém pozadí, historií perutí, ůdajů o letadlech, seznamů letadel, místy všech 512 padlých československých letců a jedné ženy RAF, až po seznamy vyznamenání, místa památníků a pamětních desek po celém světě, kde jsou českoslovenští příslušníci RAF vzpomenuti.

We are pro-active in supporting remembrance events, ceremonies and exhibitions in the Czech Republic, Slovakia, the UK and elsewhere in Europe and other locations around the world, to ensure that the achievements and exploits of the Czechoslovak RAF men and women are better and correctly known for the benefit of current and future generations. In addition to providing the 2507 names for the Winged Lion Monument in Prague, our work has also included providing countless relatives with assistance in researching their Czechoslovak RAF relatives, as our archive is the largest resource for Czechoslovak RAF material outside the Czech and Slovak Republics. We are the only organisation to have commemorated the graves of every fallen Czechoslovak RAF airman in the UK and around the world.

Aktivně podporujeme vzpomínkové akce, obřady a výstavy v České republice, na Slovensku, Velké Británii a jiných zemí Evropy, jakož i dalších místech po celém světě proto, aby dosažené úspěchy a činnost československých mužů a žen v RAF byly lépe a správně presentovány pro dnešní a budoucí generace. Kromě poskytnutí 2507 jmen pro památník Okřídleného Lva v Praze, naše činnost také zahrnuje asistenci četným příbuzným v hledání jejich rodinných příslušníků v RAF, protože náš archiv je největší zdroj informaci o československých RAF mimo území České a Slovenské republiky. Jsme jediná organizace, která připomíná hroby všech padlých československých příslušníků RAF jak ve Velké Británii, tak po celém světě.

So far this good work has only been achieved with the help of a small team of dedicated volunteers from around the world – researchers, translators, historians, Czechoslovak RAF relatives, photographers and graphic specialists – who assist us in many ways with their valuable time and resources for nothing.

Všechnu tuto dobrou práci jsme doposud dokázali jen s pomocí malého týmu zaujatých dobrovolníků z celého světa – badatelů, překladatelů, historiků, příbuzných československých RAF, fotografů a odborníků na grafiku – kteří nám bezplatně pomáhají mnoha způsoby díky svým znalostem a tím, že nám věnují svůj cenný čas.

But inevitably there are costs. To maintain this high standard we rely entirely on private funding and donations. To help cover the annual cost for maintaining this work, and to secure future research, we are appealing for donations.

Finační náklady jsou však nevyhnutelné. Udržení naší vysoké kvality je možné pouze díky osobním dotacím a finančním příspěvkům. Abychom mohli pokrýt roční náklady, potřebné k pokračování této práce a zajištění dalšího bádání, obracíme se proto na Vás s prosbou o přispění.

Your donation will greatly assist us in this work and can be made here.

Váš příspěvek, který nám velmi pomůže v naší práci, lze poskytnout zde.

Posted in 310 Sqd, 311 Sqd, 312 Sqd, 313 Sqd, 68 Sqd, Not Forgotton, Other RAF Squadrons, Personnel, Victim of Communism | Leave a comment

Valašské Klobouky – 04.03.2023

Posted in Ceremony, Events, Forthcoming Events, Memorial, Not Forgotton | Leave a comment

Pametni deska Pavlu Svobodovi

Vážení návštěvníci této stránky, chtěli bychom Vás tu průběžně informovat o stavu příprav instalace pamětní desky.

Dear visitors to our page. We aim to keep you informed about the work in progress to install this memorial plaque.

Ve spolupráci s městem Kyjovem je v současné době šest lidí, kteří věnují svou energii, čas a finanční prostředky na rozpoutání této akce. Vítají jakoukoli vaši podporu. Odhadované náklady na výrobu desky, instalaci, slavnostní odhalení a přelet letadla dosáhnou 40 tisíc. korun.

A group of six people, in cooperation with the town of Kyjov, are devoting their effort, time and also financial contribution to spearhead this project. They would welcome any support you can give to help cover the costs of the production of the plaque, its installation, official unveiling and a flypast, which are estimated at a cost of 40,000,00 Czech crowns.

Případné nevyčerpané prostředky poukážeme domovu Sue Ryder, kde nalezli útočiště mnozí veteráni i jejich blízcí.

Any unspent funds will be donated to the Sue Ryder home in Prague, where many Czechoslovak ex-RAF members, as well as their relatives, found their safe haven.

Číslo účtu je 2900718228/2010, v mezinárodním formátu IBAN: CZ77 2010 0000 0029 0071 8228 a BIC: FIOBCZPP

Account no. 2900718228/2010, IBAN: CZ77 2010 0000 oo29 0071 8228, BIC: FIOBCZPP.

_______________________________________________________________

Pavel Svoboda se narodil 28.června 1916 v obci Bohuslavice u Kyjova na moravském Slovácku. Po maturitě na gymnáziu v Kyjově studoval na Právnické fakultě v Brně. V brněnském aeroklubu získal pilotní zkušenosti v akci ”1000 pilotů republice”. 17. listopadu 1939 byl po zásahu okupantů proti českým vysokým školám odvlečen z Kounicových kolejí s dalšími studenty do koncentračního tábora Oranienburg. Před Vánocemi 1939 byl se skupinou nemocných studentů propuštěn a odjel domů. Již 1. ledna 1940 odešel přes Slovensko, Maďarsko, Jugoslávii, Řecko a Libanon, do zahraničního odboje ve Francii. V únoru 1940 byl zařazen k 1. čs. dělostřeleckému pluku v Sigeanu.

Pavel Svoboda was born on 28 June 1916 in the village of Bohuslavice near Kyjov, in the region of the Moravske Slovacko. After his university entrance exam at Kyjov Grammar school he enrolled at the law faculty in Brno. He gained his pilot’s experience at Brno Aeroclub as part of the campaign “1000 pilots for the republic”. On 17 November 1939, during the purge against the Czech universities, he and other of his fellow students were dragged out of Kounice student hostel and sent to the concentration camp of Oranienburg .He and a group of ill students were released from the camp just before Christmas 1939 and returned home. As early as 1 January 1940 he left to join the foreign resistance in France in a journey which took him through Slovakia, Hungary, Yugoslavia, Greece and Lebanon. In February 1940 he was enlisted into 1st Czechoslovak artillery battalion in Sigean.

Podal si však přihlášku k letectvu a v dubnu 1940 byl přidělen k letecké skupině v Agde. V červnu 1940 byl evakuován z Port Vendres přes Gibraltar do Anglie a vyslán k Československému leteckému depu v Cosfordu, kde se hlásil do pilotní školy. K RAF nastoupil 25. 7. 1940. Pro nedostatek střelců byl cvičen na palubního střelce. Od listopadu 1940 pokračoval ve výcviku v cvičné letce 311. československé bombardovací perutě. Od 27. 5. 1941 již létal operačně v posádce Aloise Šišky, na letounu Vickers Wellington KX-B. Z letiště East Wretham odlétal 25 bojových letů na cíle v Německu i Itálii.

Despite this, he applied to join the air force, and in April 1940 he was assigned to the air force group in Agde. In June 1940 he was evacuated via Port Vendres and Gibraltar to England and sent to the Czechoslovak depot at Cosford, where he applied to join the pilot training school. He joined the RAF on 25 July 1940. Due to the acute shortage of gunners he was trained to be a gunner. From November 1940 he continued his training with the training flight of 311 Czechoslovak bomber squadron. From 25 May 1941 he served with the Alois Šiška crew of Vickers Wellington KX-B. He did 25 ops over Germany and Italy from the airfield at East Wretham.

Dne 28. 8. 1941 při návratu z náletu na Janov byl jejich letoun donucen nouzově přistát. Před Vánocemi 1941 se Pavel oženil s Dánkou Ellen Peterson. Ale již za několik dní, 28. 12. 1941, když se Wellington KX-B vracel z náletu na německý přístav Wilhelmshaven, musel pro hořící motor nouzově přistát ve vlnách Severního moře. Zadní střelec, Rudolf Skalický (Blondy), zahynul v potopeném letounu. Ostatním pěti členům posádky se podařilo dostat do gumového člunu (dinghy), ve kterém pak za nesmírných útrap strávili na moři 6 dnů, než je vítr a vlny vyvrhly na holandské pobřeží u obce Petten. Dne 2. 1. 1942 zemřeli Josef Tománek a Josef Mohr. Alois Šiška, Pavel Svoboda a Josef Ščerba byli nalezeni dvanáctiletým Thomasem Zuyderlandem, který sbíral naplavené dříví na břehu. Byli zajati a po vyléčení zranění a omrzlin skončili v zajateckém táboře Stalag VIIIB v Lamsdorfu.

On the return from a raid on Genoa on 28 August 1941 the crew had a forced landing. Before Christmas that year Pavel married Danish girl Ellen Peterson. Only a few days later, on 28 December 1941, on return from bombing the German port of Wilhelmshaven, the crew was forced to ditch in the North Sea due to a fire-damaged engine. The rear gunner Rudolf Skalický (aka Blondy) perished with the sinking aircraft. The other five crew members managed to scramble into the dinghy, in which they spent the next 6 days in unimaginable conditions, before the wind and waves washed them out onto the Dutch coast near the village of Petten. Josef Tománek and Josef Mohr died in the dinghy on 2 January 1942. Alois Šiška, Pavel Svoboda and Josef Ščerba were spotted by twelve year old Thomae Zuiderland, who was collecting driftwood on the beach. They were taken prisoner and after being treated for injuries and frostbite, ended up at Stalag VIIIB Lamsdorf.

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Posted in 311 Sqd, Forthcoming Events, Not Forgotton, POW | Leave a comment

Miles Magister

History:

Following the success of the civilian Miles M2 Hawk Trainer as an elementary trainer in the mid-1930s, the first low-wing monoplane to be adopted as a trainer by the Royal Air Force, the company’s management decided to further develop its military trainer range . They decided to produce a derivative of the M2 Hawk Trainer to satisfy the Air Ministry’s Specification T.40/36. The submission ignored an established policy of only procuring metal aircraft which the RAF had instituted at that time. Designated the Miles M14 Magister, the aircraft first flew in May 1937 with production starting shortly thereafter and entry to RAF service beginning in October of that year.

Magister training aircraft were delivered not only to the RAF, but also to flying clubs, as well as abroad. By the beginning of World War II, the Magister was already the main machine in RAF flying schools.

Design:

The Miles Magister is a low wing cantilever monoplane primarily designed for training of RAF pilots during WW2 and its design was evolved from the earlier Miles Hawk Trainer. Main differences between the two aircraft was the enlargement of the two cockpit areas to accommodate training aids and a complete set of instruments for teaching “blind” flights, and parachute seats. The open cockpits were fitted with forward facing perspex screens. Pilots access to the cockpits was via hinged doors and wingroot walkway on the starboard side. The rear cockpit on aircraft operated by the RAF were equipped with a folding curtain, mounted on the outside rear of the cockpit, for practicing blind flights.

The Magister is largely constructed of wood, consisting of a rectangular fuselage with semicircular top, of a spruce structure with a completely sheathed plywood covering; similar materials were used for the three-piece wing and the tail unit. A protective tubular frame was installed for the front cockpit, which protected the pilot in the event of an aircraft nosedive. The wing centre section has no dihedral and is of constant section with outer sections having dihedral and tapering towards the tip. It has split flaps as standard and thus the first RAF trainer to have flaps. It has a fixed tailwheel undercarriage with drag-reducing spats on the main wheels; to reduce the landing distance, the undercarriage was fitted with Bendix drum brakes. The Magister retained the Hawk’s de Havilland Gipsy Major 4-cylinder, in-line, air-cooled De Havilland Gipsy Major, 130 hp engine. Propeller is a De Havilland wooden, constant pitch, diameter 1900 mm.

Training:

By the time WW2 was declared, over 700 Magisters were now in RAF service as its handling characteristics provided and excellent introduction for new pilots to the Hawker Hurricane and Supermarine Spitfire. They were used in 16 Elementary Flying Training Schools in the UK and additionally deployed with squadrons and airfields as communication ‘hacks’. In addition to this RAF usage, they were also used by the British Army and Fleet Air Arm.

By the time production had ceased in the UK in 1941, a total of 1,229 had been built in the UK, of these, 1225 entered the RAF where they served throughout the war. In the post-war period, the Magister was taken out of RAF service, with the machines that were still serviceable being sold off. They were acquired by flying clubs, private owners and the Air Force of small countries (such as Ireland or Lebanon). The Miles company itself sold aircraft after a major overhaul under the name “Hawk Trainer” MkIII. After the war, 100 Magisters were built under license in Turkey.

Miles Magister Specifications:

Powerplant:

1 × de Havilland Gipsy Major I four cylinder air-cooled inverted in-line piston engine, 130 hp (97 Kw)

Performance:

Max speed:142 mph (229 km/h,Cruise speed: 122 mph (196 km/h),Service Ceiling height: 16,500 ft (5,000m),

Dimensions:

Wing span:3 ft 10 in (10.31m), Length: 24ft 7.5 in (7.506m), Max Height: 6ft 8 in (2.03m), Range:367 miles (591 km).

Weight:

Unladen: 1,286 lb (583 kg), Max laden: 1,900 (862 kg)

Armament:

None

Crew:

2

******
Posted in 310 Sqd, 311 Sqd, 312 Sqd, 313 Sqd, 68 Sqd, Aircraft, Information | 2 Comments

Tiger Moths Used by Czechoslovak Airmen

During WW2, for many new Czechoslovak airmen, their first encounter with the de-Havilland Tiger Moth was for their initial training aircraft at a Elementary Service Flying Training School after their selection for pilot training. These aircraft were often was also to be found at RAF airfields were they were used as communications “hacks” transport to ferry the squadron pilots to other locations.

The three Czechoslovak fighter squadrons were no exception to such usage, Tiger Moths known to have been used are:

<
Squadron:Serial Number: Period:Comments:
310:
DE34214/11/43
to
14/04/44
To the Admiralty 6/45.
DE62630/06/43
to
24/09/43
On 06/11/43, during a take-off, flown by Sgt Josef Čermák, at a height of approx 8 mtrs and a speed of 95 km/h, the engine failed. The pilot tried to make a turn to avoid a collision with a group of trees, during the manoeuvre the right wing of his plane touched the ground and the aircraft crashed at Woodmans Green, Sussex. The aircraft had heavy damage on the port side wing, engine bed and carriage, the pilot suffered light injuries.
N919009/07/44
to
15/07/44
moved to 504 Sqn. Post WW2 on civilian register as 5283M.
NL97811/01/45
to
19/01/45

13/02/45
to
11/05/45

On 19/01/45 this aircraft was caught in a storm over the airfield and hit the wall of a hangar.Both of his wings and the tail section were damaged. After repairs in No.71 MU the aircraft was returned to the unit.

Subsequently moved to 11 Elementary Flying Traing School. Post WW2 in collision with N6547 near Leuchars 17/11/48.

R502815/07/44
to
19/10/44
Damaged beyond repair 19/10/44.
T611011/10/42
to
01/07/43
When 310 Sqn was redeployed from Exeter to Castletown, this aircraft was left there for 131 Sqn. Post WW2 to Dutch Air Force as A-12, then D-EDAL, then PH-TYG.
312:
AX78306/08/43
to
03/10/44

13/02/45
to
11/05/45

Blown into hangar in gale Bradwell Bay 19/01/45. Transferred to 313 Sqn. Post WW2 on civilian register as G-AFMC.
DE37929/09/42
to
04/07/43
Replacement for Miles Magister V1014 which left the unit on 08/10/1942.
When 313 Sqn re-deployed to Castletown this aircraft was left at Exeter for 131 Sqn.
DE37329/06/43
to
14/04/44

13/02/45
to
11/05/45

To the Admiralty 6/45. Sruck off Charge 31/10/46.
DE67601/12/44
to
20/04/45

13/02/45
to
11/05/45

Sold in 1946 became G-AITD.
T825419/11/44
to
25/11/44

13/02/45
to
11/05/45

The aircraft was used by No. 312 Sqn before It was placed upon the register. F/Sgt Alois Štanc’s accident test from 10/10/44 is clear evidence that he lost control over the aircraft during taxing to test flight and hit parked Spitfire ML214 of 126 Sqn.

Crashed in a forced landing at Abberton, Essex 25/11/44.
Returned to unit 310 on 28/09/1943.

On 07/11/1943 it was flown by Sgt Josef Čermák. During take off at a height of approximately 8 metres and speed of 95km/h it lost the engine power. The pilot tried to make a turn to avoid a collition with a group of trees. During the manoeuvre the right wing of his plane touched the ground and the aircraft crashed resulting in heavy damage on the port side wing, engine bed and carriage. The pilot suffered light injuries.

Tipped up in forced landing while lost in bad visibility Abberton Essex 25/11/44.

313:
AX78303/10/44
to
19/01/45
At Bradwell Bay, early morning on 19/01/1945, aircraft was caught in a storm and hit the wall of a hangar resulting in damage to both wings and the tail section. Post WW2 went onto civilian register as G-AFMC.
DE47904/07/43
to
18/02/44
On 18/02/1944 at 15:30 when flown by F/Sgt František Fanta lost engine power during take off from Ibsley to Medlesham. Aircraft ended in a ditch resulting in damage. Pilot unharmed. Aircraft later transferred to No 3 Elementery Flying Training School. Post WW2 went onto civilian register as VH-BPV, crashed at Pura Pura Victoria, Australia, 24/12/58.
T619507/10/42
to
04/07/43
Post WW2 on civilian register as G-AMKI (OH-ELB), then as EI-AGC. Crashed at Killiney Strand, Eire 15/07/55.
NL69911/07/44
to
23/08/44
The aircraft belonged to the Skaebrae airfield where No. 313 squadron was stationed from 11/7/1943. On 23/8/1944 the Tiger Moth mentioned above was crashed by F/Sgt W H Hallat, a British member of the unit, in heavy wind on Sanday the emergency airfield at Orkney islands. The aircraft was heavily damaged.
NM118 moved to 24 Elementary Flying Training School. Post WW2, hit tree on approach to RAF Church Fenton 30/04/49.
NM146 moved to 118 Sqn. Post WW2 went onto civillian register as G-ANTA and then onto the French register as F-OASD.
T6463
to
06/42
The aircraft belonged to the Flight at Churchstanton airfield and sometimes was used by pilots of no. 313 squadron which was stationed here for a year from June 1942. Post WW2 went onto civilian register as G-ANMR and then onto French register as F-BGZN.
T7733Post WW2 went onto civilian registers as G-ANKY and then SE-CGE

Czechoslovak pilots occasionally also flew other Tiger Moths whilst serving in British RAF squadrons:

Pilot:

Serial Number:

Sqn:

Comment:

F/Lt Tomáš Kruml

T7182

66 Sqn

also DE611 in May 1943 with 122 Sqn.

F/Lt Tomáš Kruml

DE611

122 Sqn

in May 1943.

F/O Hlado

DE899

122 Sqn

in May 1943.

F/Lt Jiří Maňák

DE530

182 Sqn

S/Ldr Jiří Maňák

DE765

198 Sqn

in 1943.

F/Sgt Alois Dvořák

T8204

501 Sqn

Sgt V Brejcha

N6835

257 Sqn

Was killed on 19.6.1941 in this aircraft which was borrowed from RAF Coltishall. During a training flight, he crashed in mist on the East coast. His body was wash up later near Southwold.

From 1942 until August 1945 a number of the Czechoslovak airmen served with 510 Sqn at RAF Hendon. The squadron had wide selection of single and twin-engined aircraft in its flight. Amongst the pilots flying Tiger Moths K4276, N6946, N9444, in this squadron were F/Lt Bohumír Fürst and F/Lt Alois Vrecl.

Serial Number:

Comment:

K4276

Post WW2 added to civilian register as G-AOJX then OO-EVS then toBrussels Museum.

N6946

Post WW2 added to civilian register as G-AOEI, then to Shuttelworth Collection and in July 1958 sold to the CFG Flying Ltd, Cambridge, UK, where it is still used for flight training.

N9444

Struck off Charge 28/10/44

Posted in 310 Sqd, 311 Sqd, 312 Sqd, 313 Sqd, Aircraft | Leave a comment

Escapes of Karel Stastny


Karel Šťastný was a 311 (Czechoslovak) Sqn pilot who was born at Hošťálková, Czechoslovakia on 3 August 1918. Pre-WW2 he was a pilot, at the rank of Kapitan, in the Czechoslovak Air Force. When the Germans occupied Czechoslovakia, on 15 March 1939, it became a German Protectorate and Slovakia became a German ‘puppet’ state. The Czechoslovak Air Force and Army was disbanded and all personnel demobilised.

German Occupation:

Like many of his former Czechoslovak Air Force colleagues, Karel could not reconcile himself to the Munich surrender and subsequent occupation. Amongst the now demobilised former members of the Czechoslovak military, rumours were being heard that Czechoslovak military units were being formed in Poland for the purpose of fighting for the freedom of their homeland. Karel was one of many who responded to this news and investigated further. He was put in contact with the Obrana Národa [Defence of the Nation] an underground organisation formed since the German occupation in order to get military personnel to Poland.

Karel, with colleagues on their escape to Poland.

To Poland:

On the night of 1 August 1939, with five colleagues, Karel covertly left Czechoslovakia by illegally crossing the border into Poland, however his reception at the border was far from cordial. Poland herself was a troubled land, internally disrupted by mass Jewish emigration and gripped in tension as to her own territorial fate, such fear and suspicion magnified to an intense degree along her frontiers with Nazi Germany on the western border and Russia on the eastern border. Increasing numbers of fleeing Czechs had become an embarrassing problem for the Polish Authorities and the only sanctuary offered to them was transfer to a transit camp at Bronowice Małe, a former Polish army barracks on the outskirts of Kraków.

Czechoslovaks at Bronowice Małe, Summer 1939.

The camp was now near dereliction and now used to provide accomodation for the sudden influx of Czech fugitives. Here, Karel joined some two hundred of his fellow countrymen, all servicemen like himself, who had mistakenly assumed Poland might welcome this augmentation to its manpower. Instead, their one salvation seemed to lie in the somewhat desperate measure of enrolment into the French Foreign Legion. This possibility was first mooted by one Czechoslovak Army Officer in their midst, Lieutenant Colonel Ludvík Svoboda, who subsequently trained in Russia and was to become the first post-war President of Czechoslovakia. But the negotiations between the Czechoslovak Consulate in Kraków and his counter-part in Paris took time.

Meanwhile the sparse wooden huts at Bronowice Małe afforded little comfort, nor did the limited and fast-dwindling resources they had brought with them, permit of much escapism outwith the confines of the camp. It was a waiting game, leaving plenty of time for contemplating the future.

Escape from Poland:

During the Spring and Summer some 1200 Czechoslovak military escapees had already departed from Bronowice Małe for France, travelling from Gydnia, on the Polish Baltic coast, where between 12 May to 18 August 1939, six ship sailings had taken them to France. By the end of that August, a further 900 escapees were still at camp waiting to go to France.

The Germans invaded Poland on 1 September 1939 and the Czechoslovak escapees at Bronowice Małe had to evacuate the camp to avoid being captured. A group of 860, led by Lt/Col Svoboda departed the camp by train for Leśno, some 600km in northern Poland in an attempt to reach Gydnia and be evacuated from there. A further group of 78 Czechoslovak airmen, under the command of kapitán František Divoký, remained at the camp to collect any late escapees before they also departed from Bronowice Małe – Karel was with this latter group.

Czechoslovak escapees in transit from Bronowice Małe, Summer 1939.

The Germans invaded Poland on 1 September 1939 and on 2 days later kapitán Divoký and his group evacuated Bronowice Małe. Because of the advancing Germans, they were unable to travel directly north to Leśno and so first travelled east by train to Tarnow, 85 km away and then intended to travel north from there. However about 6km before Tarnow, the train could go no further because the track had been destroyed by Luftwaffe bombing. They continued their journey on foot to Mielka. At midday on 8 September they depart north by train to Rozwadow by train, some 400km away, but again they encountered Luftwaffe bombing which had destroyed the track and had to walk the final 20km. In view of the rapid advance of the German blitzkreig, they decided to turn South and the following day they arrived by train to Lubin, just as the Luftwaffe were bombing the city – and a further three raids by evening. By train and often by foot when the rail tracks had been destroyed by bombing – walking 50 km in a single day on 11 September – they made their way to Terebovlya, Ukraine, arriving on 16 September. That evening they continued by train to Czortkow, Ukraine.

Czechoslovak escapees enroute to Romania, September 1939.

Now clear of the Polish invasion, their plan now was to travel to Romania from where they could get to a Mediterranean port and then board a ship which would take them to France. On 17 September, they left by train for Khryplyn, Ukraine heading south to Delyatyn from where they would march to the Romanian border. The Romanian authorities, transported them to former military barracks at Pitesti. Kapitán Divoký contacted the French Consulate in Bucharest, and after their intervention, and issuing the group French passports, they were then able to able secure permission for the airmen to leave the country. On 8 November they sailed from the Romanian port of Constanta to Beirut and from there to Marseille, France. Here they were transferred to the Czechoslovak transit camp at nearby Agde. From here, the Czechoslovak airmen were transferred into l’Armée d’Air and began their training with French aircraft.

Escape from France:

The Germans invaded France on 10 May 1940 and their blitzkreig tactic, used very successfully in Poland the previous September was equally successful in France, causing the French military to having to keep evacuating Westward. Following the fall of Paris, morale crumbled, communications broke down and, with a French capitulation imminent, the Czechoslovak airmen were released from their l’Armée d’Air service so that they could make their way to England, from where they could carry on the fight. A contingent of 93, led by Major Alexander Hess withdrew to the coast at Bordeaux where they hopped to find a ship to take them to England. They were evacuated on the ‘Ary Schaeffer’, a small Dutch merchant ship, on 19 June 1940 and after a prolonged voyage far out into the Atlantic, to avoid attack by Luftwaffe aircraft, they arrived four days later at Falmouth, England.

With 311 Sqn at East Wretham:

After security checks on arrival to the UK, Karel was accepted into the RAF Volunteer Reserve on 23 July, 1940, and posted to 311 (Czechoslovak) Squadron.

Initially, the squadron was comprised of a force of only nine Vickers Wellington MkIc twin engined, bombers, each with a crew consisting of 1st and 2nd Pilots, Navigator, Wireless Operator and two Gunners. These hard-pressed aircraft were airborne almost round the clock. By day, as 1429 Czechoslovak Operational Training Unit, they served to train new aircrews, but at night-fall, duly re-fuelled and loaded with a full bomb-load, they were manned by their operational crews, on missions to destroy some enemy-held target. As new crews completed their training, so the squadron gradually increased to a dozen aircraft, but losses, as there inevitably were, presented great problems.

Vickers Wellington Mk Ic.

Escape from Wellington R1718

On the night of 16 July 1941, 311 Sqn despatched eight Wellington bombers for a raid on Hamburg, taking-off at minute intervals from 23:01. One of the aircraft, WR1718 (KX-N), was crewed by Sgt Jaroslav Nyč Captain, Sgt Karel Šťastny, co-pilot, P/O Jaroslav Zafouk,navigator, P/O Otakar Černy, wireless operator, Sgt František Knap, front-gunner and Sgt Jiří Mareš, rear-gunner took-off from East Wretham at 23:07. After taking-off no more was heard from them.

Almost from the outset of their operational tour, the crew had become acquainted with anti-aircraft fire during bombing raids, but there was none that 16th night of July, 1941 as they droned high over the Netherlands, bound for Hamburg. Without warning, the Wellington bomber was suddenly buffeted in a violent oscillation – triggered, it seemed, by an explosion under Karel’s seat.

At 00:50, they were attacked by a Me110 Luftwaffe night-fighter, flown by Leutnant Rudolf Schoenert of the 4./NJG 1, who was flying Bf 110 C-7 G9+JM from Bergen airfield, Holland. In immediate reaction, the aircrafts two pilots strained to bring the Wellington back on to a level course, until it became obvious that it could neither regain height nor be counteracted in its downward trend. The bomber’s erratic behaviour, combined with the flames now flaring into the fuselage behind, prompted Nyč to make an urgent roll-call amongst the crew.

The crew was intact, but the fire was spreading and a bomb-laden Wellington was no place to linger, so Nyč gave the command for the them to bale out. They successfully baled out, although Nyč, the pilot, was momentarily trapped by a jammed hatch, but was able to break it free and take to his parachute.

Karel had struggled out of his seat and clambered in defiance of the Wellington’s diving tilt towards the nearest means of exit. The nearest was the exit hatch, directly behind his seat, and was already open. He tried to move to its flaming outline, braced to experience his first parachute descent, but was sharply jerked to a halt by the cables of his intercom. and oxygen mask, which he had forgotten to disconnect.

Held fast by the taut flexes across his throat, which already raw from breathing acrid smoke, while the heavy Wellington gathered momentum as it plunged earthward. Summoning every last ounce of his might, he managed to disconnect the restraining cables and exited through the hatch out of the now spiralling inferno. Had the Wellington not been flying at an altitude in excess of 18,000 feet, it is virtually certain that a lesser descent of the bomber would have taken Karel with it into when it crashed into the IJsselmeer off Tacozijl, Holland.

After baling out of the stricken aircraft, Sgt Jiří Mareš landed in the Zuider Zee and was drowned and interred by the Germans at Lemmer. With that exception, none of the other crew members were seriously injured, but they held little hope of retaining their liberty, when their flaming aircraft and its subsequent crash, was certain to have aroused German occupation forces into a thorough search for survivors.

One feature of the night’s dramatic events was clearly imprinted upon Karel’s mind: that there had been no flak, he was convinced. Experience had taught him that even a close miss was invariably accompanied by the smell of gunpowder that had not been noticeable. Instead, the explosion was within the Wellington itself, directly under the Captain’s seat and Karel was never known to retract his conviction that it was the dastardly work of a saboteur.

Prisoner of War

The blazing aircraft had most certainly alerted German troops and it was only a matter of hours until tracker dogs in the charge of armed soldiers, had located every crew-member. They were taken by army truck to Amsterdam where Karel was allocated number 39287 by his captors. After interrogation, they were transferred to Stalag IXc at Bad Sulza, Germany. Karel’s next move was on 26 April 1942 when he was transferred to Stalag Luft IIID at Sagan, in Poland.

The huts were large ones with double bunks accommodating some 40 men. Conditions were harsh in the extreme. Food was appallingly inadequate, the German interpretation of a prisoner’s daily food allowance (within the terms of the Geneva Convention) amounting to a mere 1/12th of a loaf of bread (three thin slices at most), three small potatoes and a bowl of soup. Even this scanty meal was further depleted, when, at the finish of their stored season, many of the potatoes were rendered quite inedible.

Frequently and especially in hot weather, the so-called soup was rancid and could only be consumed when the nostrils were pinched together. The onset of winter lowered despondency to a new level as their under-nourished bodies strived to ward off the bitter cold. Had it not been for the weekly distribution of Red Cross parcels, the sick-list would surely have reached greater proportions. Those parcels sustained them in spirit as well as in body, providing a link with the outside world with a silent rally of hope that this limbo state would not last forever.

The parcels came, in turn, from three sources – Great Britain, Canada and the United States of America – portions being, not surprisingly, more liberal from the two American countries than those out of strictly-rationed Britain. The contents averaged a small tin of butter, cheese, tinned meat, powdered milk and dried eggs, sardines, jellies, some chocolate and forty cigarettes. A certain meat loaf seemed, even to their deprived palates, overly lacking in a reasonable meat-content and gave rise to a joked threat that, after the war, they would unitedly seek out the supplier named on each tin and shoot him as an enemy agent.

It was soon after being taken prisoner that Karel decided to grow a beard and this image he was to maintain for the duration of his captivity, except for a few occasional and brief resorts to his razor. Even then, he retained the substantial moustache, without which, he never was seen thereafter.

Stalag Luft IIID expanded, with the erection of additional huts within its confines and new arrivals swelled the roll-calls. In mid-October 1942, a truck brought in a batch, who had just been discharged from hospital care, among them, Zdeněk Sichrovský. If prisoners they must both be, then it was good that they were together, but Karel was distressed to see such change in his old friend and gradually to learn the details of the dreadful crash, which had almost cost Zdeněk both his legs.

His Wellington bomber, KX-J, T2971, piloted by Sgt Jindřich Svoboda has received a direct hit from anti-aircraft fire, after a raid on Bremen, killing his navigator and wireless operator outright and extensively burning the other crew members. They had no option but to make a forced landing at 22:36 north of Tilburg, Holland. Zdeněk himself had been thrown out of the aircraft by the impact of the crash, thus escaping burns, but not severs injuries embracing nine broken ribs a cracked skull and many excruciating and complicated bone fractures in both legs. In hospital in Tilburg, Holland, the German doctors had, in fact, recommended amputation of both legs below the knee, but, encouraged by the experienced optimism of a Dutch nursing nun, he elected instead, for the long and painful treatment by surgery, plaster casts and traction. It had taken nine months to patch him up and the suffering endured was clearly evident as he painfully struggled to regain his ability to walk.

Stalag Luft I, Barth.

Stalag Luft I – Barth

On 16 October 1942, only a few days after Sichrovský’s arrival, the entire camp was transferred by railway cattle trucks, to Stalag Luft I, at Barth, on the Baltic coast of Germany. It was a much smaller compound, with smaller huts, each divided into three rooms. A room held three bunk beds, a stove, a table and 2 benches as well as a cupboard in which, they stored the combined contents of their food parcels. They had discovered that it was advantageous to pool the food items and had nominated Sichrovský their chef, he having proved himself the most competent cook amongst them, capable of serving some remarkably palatable snacks from even this, very limited, larder.

Another useful accomplishment, was Sichrovský’s skill in watch­ repairing. No doubt in consideration of his physical incapacity, permission was granted for him to receive two boxes of watch parts from the Red Cross in Geneva. Karel made a small lathe for him and they were in business.

Most of the prisoners engaged in some pursuit; some painted pictures whilst others developed an interest in metalwork. For this, they saved up the foil wrapping within cigarette packets, smelted it down into a base metal and from this, all manner of objects were, with considerable artistry, created. Such was the wealth of talent in and support for, this particular craft, that an impressive exhibition was eventually staged, the array somewhat dominated by a grotesque death-mask of none other than Sichrovský.

This outward show of resignation to their plight, was a concealment of a further hive of industry, namely the assembly of contributions towards escape projects. German uniforms were duplicated, after painstaking unpicking of British ones, each piece then carefully pressed and re-fashioned, using the reverse side of the fabric, thus effecting a close resemblance to the material worn by a German soldier. Metal buttons were cast from plaster moulds. Papers were stolen, ‘borrowed’ or bartered and the temporary ‘loan’ of a typewriter allowed moulds of all type-face to be taken, for subsequent compilation into the rubber stamps, so imperative for authenticity in identity and travel documents.

Stalag Luft III, Sagan.

First PoW Escape:

It was one matter to prepare for escapes but another to survive the manifold hazards which undoubtedly lurked in the alien territory beyond camp. That much, Karel had, to his chagrin, learned when he made his first bid for freedom in the summer of 1942, out of Stalag Luft III-D.

Under cover of darkness, he and another prisoner had accomplished an undetected exit, after cutting their way through the double perimeter wire fences. Not until many miles separated the from the camp did they slacken their pace, having navigated themselves to a predetermined railway.

Momentarily, they lay amid shrubbery on the embankment, to regain their breath and decide in which direction might lie the nearest signals, where a train might have cause to slow down. A goods train did just that and once hidden beneath the tarpaulin cover of a wagon, they allowed themselves a small measure of congratulatory elation that they had made it and were speeding in the direction of Czechoslovakia.

Fate however, was to deal a unkind hand. After some time the train’s erratic shunting behaviour and a prolonged halt tempted Karel to risk a careful survey of their whereabouts and to his consternation, he saw that they had been shunted into the loading yard of what was surely, a German munitions factory. Here security was maximum – not only was the yard brightly illuminated beneath its blacked-out roof, but sectional walls were topped with barbed wire and amongst the small army of workers already unloading the train, he could discern numerous armed guards. By comparison, escape from Stalag Luft IIID had been relatively simple and there could be no unobserved retreat from this secure area.

2nd PoW Escape:

Karel, with other Czechoslovak Prisoner of War, at Stalag Luft I.

The severity of a German winter, with its snows and extreme cold was a formidable deterrent to further escape speculation. Karel recognised only too well, the rigours’s of life on the run and the greatly reduced chances of success, in inclement weather conditions. In any case, he had to await Spring to avail himself of the particular means by which he hoped to quit Barth Camp.

Among the inmates of Stalag Luft 1 was a percentage of civilian refugees of Russian extraction – non-combatants whom war had buffeted into a slave labour situation here at Barth, their days spent in wearisome agricultural toil whenever weather allowed, in return for one unappetising and barely sufficient meal, at the end of each day.

The opportunity of escape, by changing places with one of these refugees, was an obvious one, but fraught with the danger of recognition by a guard or even betrayal. Karel waited and watched, before making his choice of a likely co-operator, meanwhile hoarding his own Red Cross parcels, to the sacrifice of any complementary meals. One morning in early Summer, he hurriedly relinquished his bribe and donned the clothes of a field- worker, taking his place in their sullen ranks, tense and expectant that the ruse would fail. But it succeeded and from the open fields he edged gradually to the cover of nearby shrubbery and ultimate woods.

He deemed it imperitive that he remain isolated from civilisation and essential, therefore, that he travel only by night. In his present refugee clothing he lacked the protection afforded by his uniform should he apprehended and could be shot as a spy. A second day passed in hiding, the hunger pangs which plagued him barely relieved by gnawing on a few raw potatoes gleaned from a field.

The stars guided. his north-easterly route towards Czechoslovakia. Some fugitives from PoW camps opted for a route to Yugoslavia and and many did, in fact, reach that country to fight again with the partisans. But Karel pressed steadfastly homewards, each 24 hours of freedom setting the seal on success. His diet remained raw vegetables, potatoes or turnips mostly, but drought conditions roused the more pressing torment of thirst. He would not permit himself to venture near farms where there might be water troughs or barrels – such places also had people and worse, vigilant dogs.

In his third week of freedom he was crazed by thirst, until mercifully a ground mist formed one dawn and he lay on the moist grass greedily sucking the droplets of dew. As his panting gradually abated unbelievable sound reached his ears the tantalising gurgling of water – and soon he was floundering in the shallow depths of a vastly evaporated river bed. With his thirst satisfied, and aglow from the cold dousing, his spirits rose as he lay in a hiding place re-assessing his chances.

It was his 17th day of freedom – surely he was rid of the pursuing search-parties which had undoubtedly been sent forth after him from Barth. His reckoning told him he might well be within one more night’s trail of the border. Surely thus refreshed and spurred by this anticipation he would cross into his homeland before another dawn. In this state of reassurance he discreetly spread his clothes to dry in the heat of the day while he drifted on into an oblivion interspersed with dreams of home-coming.

The sun was in its zenith when Karel was startled back to consciousness by the proximity of two dogs sniffing around him. Beyond them, with steady gait, the figure of a man approached, a broken shot-gun resting easily in the crook of his right arm. Karel scrambled to his feet, but the man made no move to cock his gun and was still very much in charge of the obedient hounds.

As he questioned Karel, his accent revealed him to be a Czech, and an apparently innocent game­keeper engaged on his daily patrol. Karel felt himself weakening with relief, yet could not dispel a nagging mistrust of the shelter offered and promise of subsequent assistance in a clandestine crossing of the border, which, as he had calculated, was but a few miles distant. How prudent was his instinct, for even before they cleared the spinny a dozen and more German soldiers ran to meet them and Karel realised that his discovery had actually taken place earlier, either as he slept on or perhaps he had been spotted as he bathed in the stream. It was just too coincidental, to suppose that a truck-load of armed soldiers had been passing. Feelings of disappointment over this 11th hour disintegration of all his endeavours and dejection at the prospect of further captivity, took time to develop in him.

For the moment, his whole being was consumed by a loathsome contempt for the fellow-countryman who, so readily, had abused his trust and stooped to betrayal. Karel managed to convey his disgust for the traitor, before rough hands were laid upon him and brutal blows rained upon his face and head, from the rifle­ butts of his captors. Thus ended his 17-day liberty – further misery and deprivation awaiting him in a dank, lone cell back in Barth.

His prolonged absence had, understandably, encouraged an assumption of his success, among the inmates of Stalag Luft I. His re-appearance, after such an interval, therefore had a decidely shattering effect on the few onlookers who witnessed his return. Not only did the revelation of his failure depress them, but they were deeply shocked to note the battered face that rendered him barely recognisable.

Four weeks in solitary confinement was the customary punishment for re-captured escapees. Karel knew only too well, from memories of Sagan, what was in store for him. It meant survival on the most meagre amount of swill to keep him at subsistence level and no more. And again, he found himself glad to gnaw on fragments of coal, in a vain attempt to stave off the gripes of overwhelming hunger his sole comfort being the few crusts tossed through his window in sympathetic token, by a band of prisoners led by Sichrovský. But, with grit, he withstood this destitution and the long month ended at last.

Third PoW Escape:

Incredibly, Karel was not defeated by the two unsuccessful escapes, for indeed, failures they had not been, both beset by cruel and unexpected twists of fate.

He was determined to try again and preparations were put in hand. For months he hoarded and bartered chocolate bars, to fill the little attache case which was to be an essential accessory to the role he contrived, namely that of a civilian worker. It was getting on for Winter, but he planned to travel by train as far as possible, thus trusting that the somewhat shabby trousers, jacket, cap and scarf procured for him would suffice. Finally, the forged papers and a small amount of money were available and he was ready to go.

His secret plan was confirmed to the few friends whose assistance he needed to help smuggle his disguise to the ablutions block, where, after the other prisoners had showered and departed, Karel remained in hiding, to wait out the tense hours until darkness descended. He then made his way toward the double fences, carefully timing each spurt between the sweep of the searchlight, cut a small hole through the fence and then further to gain cover of the scrub, some distance beyond. Momentarily he thought “so far so good” and permitted himself to wonder how long might his freedom last this time, before grimly pressing on into the night.

It seemed suddenly strange to walk along a proper tarmac road. He tried to adopt an air of nonchalance through the outskirts and into the town, which was now wakening for the day’s business. He had breakfasted on some chocolate, which only served to confirm his fear that such a diet was going to prove monotonous, if not downright sickening. Still, this independent food supply obviated the risk involved in contact with shopkeepers, cafes and even the ubiquitous German militia nor did he have money to spend on ought but travel. As it was, his meagre resources would hardly get him far and he might well have to resort to less than honest tactics, to cover the considerable distance he intended. He would exercise maximum caution until he gauged the risks and he noted, with relief, that his guise did. not seem to arouse any undue attention.

It was not his dress which gave him away, but a simple irregularity in his papers. From time to time, the German Authorities introduced additional or re-styled endorsement stamps to up-date passes, in an effort to tighten the net cast to catch deserters and other fugitives. Unfortunately, Barth’s Escape Comittee had not been acquainted with the latest of these alterations and the discrepancy came to light when Karel chanced to be selected by a railway Policeman during a random document inspection. It was at the barrier as an anxious crowd jostled to pass through to the waiting train. A foul stroke of luck it was for him to be one of those waylaid, just as it was a crushing blow to be thus intercepted in Sudetenland, so close to Czechoslovakia and safety.

Examination of his attache case only condemned him further and he was transferred into Civil Police custody, incarcerated in a cell beneath the Police Station, for several days while they verified his true identity. During this detention the only food he received was bitter, raw, salt fish while all liquids were denied.

From this private hell, he was almost glad that on 3 November 1943, to be sent to Oflag IV-B, at Mühlberg, some 30 miles North of Dresden, Germany. Holding some 30,000 prisoners from 33 different countries, it was the largest prisoner-of-war camps in Germany during World War II – in reputation, second only to the infamous Colditz. There Karel was to experience his third term of the injustices of solitary confinement.

A new year dawned, bringing with it an abundance of rumours for the prisoners’ speculation. News filtered into the camp of successive Allied victories and the increasing certainty that Germany was on the brink of defeat. It was 1945 and a March morning brought dramatic confirmation of these stories, when the entire camp seemed to erupt in a fever of activity. Since daybreak lorries had been trundling out of the gates and soon the prisoners were urgently aligned and marched out, under escort, soon to overtake streams of fleeing civilians. Everyone and everything moved in an easterly direction – the rout was on.

As far as the eye could see the road ahead was clogged, but gradually the Army lorries hooted a passage through, taking all food supplies with them. Many of the prisoners were already under-nourished and weakened visibly under the demands of such unrelenting physical exertion, without sustenance. Hunger pangs attacked Karel too but he was not slow to recognise a potential meal when a cat happened along. Without hesitation he wrung its neck, skinned and dressed it, to provide a meal surely to be tolerated by none but the utterly desperate.

Fitful sleep was snatched by the roadside and another daybreak saw them force themselves into a reluctant resumption of the gruelling trek.

Mid-morning brought an unexpected jolt from their torpid nightmare, when, out of the sky behind them roared a single-file formation of fighter ‘planes, each in turn, swooping low over the straggling column and strafing its length – the machine­ gun fire scattering the dazed pedestrians into the ditches on either side. When Karel sensed their passing he raised his head and clearly saw the insignia on the last aircraft – ironically the star of the United States Army Air Force. Threat, though these undoubtedly brought, their presence was nonetheless reassuring, for it promised the close proximity of Allied Forces. And rescue was indeed at hand, when, soon after American ground forces caught up and took them into welcome care.

Repatriation:

The end of hostilities in Europe did not take place for a further seven weeks, but for Karel, the war ended that April day.

He underwent several postings; from a Prisoner Release Centre he moved on, in mid-May to the Czechoslovak Depot at Cosford; two months later, he joined a Group Pool and finally from RAF Manston, in Kent, England, he took his farewell of the Royal Air Force under repatriation to Czechoslovakia, just two days before Japan too, capitulated.

Escape from Czechoslovakia:

On return to Czechoslovakia, he remained in the Czechoslovak Air Force, but following the Communist take-over in February 1948, those who had served with the Allies in the West during WW2, were systematically dismissed from the Czechoslovak military and then persecuted by the State Security Service with many being imprisoned. This resulted in many of the former Czechoslovak RAF personnel to escape and go into exile again in the West.

In Karel’s case, he was dismissed from Czechoslovak Air Force in March 1948, but managed to escape to the West, with 21 others in a DC3 aircraft on 14/07/48 from Prague Kbely and flying Manston, England.

DC3.

About 03:30 on 14 June 1948 a Dakota DC3 [C47], with serial no 43-48406, and Czechoslovak Air Force markings, landed at RAF Manston, Kent England. On board were 17 men of military age, two women and two boys, of 14 and 8. All of whom were Czechoslovaks. For security reasons, and to protect their families who were still in Czechoslovakia, they declined to give any details about themselves or details of the escape to the media.

The aircraft had been ‘borrowed’ from the Air Transport Regiment – Letecký dopravní pluk – from the Prague Kbely airbase in Czechoslovakia. It was late evening, Sunday 13 June. The escape group arrived at the airfield in nine separate taxi’s, from nearby Prague. Under cover of darkness the escape group of people approached the airfields perimeter fence. They were met there by a pair of security guards, named Kvapil and Koudela who were on patrol guarding the airfield. The meeting had been pre-arranged as they were going to assist with the escape. They cut a hole in the fence and the group entered the airfield.

During the afternoon of Sunday 13 June 1948, Vlastimíl Prášek, had been working on a DC3 aircraft, had its tanks filled with fuel. When he finished working on the aircraft he left it parked outside the hanger looking as if maintenance work would be continuing in the following morning.

The escape group went to where their ‘escape’ DC3 had been parked and found they had a major problem – a second DC3 had been parked in front of ‘their’ aircraft blocking its route to the grass airstrip. The aircrew, who were due to fly the escape aircraft, had a quick emergency discussion and decided that it was now too late to abort the escape attempt and they would have to use the second DC3 instead. To move it first, so that they could use their correct ‘escape’ DC3 would have alerted the airfield’. Discreetly, the escape group boarded the aircraft, the crew started the engines – one of which was reluctant to start – and immediately took-off heading East towards Horni Pocernice, a few kilometers East of Prague. Take-off was about 01:00. The pilot was Josef Bernat, ex-311 S/Ldr and pilot, Hugo Hrbáček, ex-310 S/Ldr and pilot, and Karel Šťastný ex-311 W/O and pilot. They had been serving officers in the Czechoslovak Air Force prior to their dismisal folowing the Communist take-over that March.

Amongst the other men on board, were Zdeněk Sichrovský ex-311 W/O fitter, Vlastimíl Prášek, ex-311 W/O fitter IIe, Karel Kanda, ex-312 Sgt fitter IIe, and two other ex-RAF and another man Alois Liška who had been a Division General in the Czechoslovak Army in England during WW2. Other passengers also included Karel Šťastný’s brother with his wife and two sons.

Approaching Horni Pocernice, Bernat changed course to fly West towards Cheb and then towards the American Zone of Germany. Fortunately it was a cloudy night. Whilst flying over Czechoslovak territory they maintained radio silence and all aboard kept watch for Russian fighter aircraft who were known to be looking for them. Once they had crossed into the American Zone, Bernat continued to flying West, making full use of the cloud cover as the fighters were still searching for them but, running short of fuel, they finally gave up and returned back to Czechoslovakia.

Bernat now set course for England. As they were still over the English Channel the aircraft’s fuel gauges showed empty. The aircraft touched down at Manston at about 03:30 as the aircraft had touched down on the runway, the engines cut out as the fuel tanks were empty.

This escape caused considerable upset to the Czechoslovak Communist authorities. The aircraft they had taken had been the allocated for usage by the Czechoslovak President, Klement Gottwald on his state duties and had just returned, with him, from Bratislava late that evening.

All 21 of the escape group were tried in absentia to high treason. The British newspapers had a very different reaction saying that as most of those on board had served in the RAF in WW2 it was ‘the Royal Air Force returns to England’.

The Czechoslovak government demanded the return of the aircraft. After three months of negotiations the aircraft was returned to Czechoslovakia – along with a bill for the repairs and maintenace for its stay at Manston.

No Escape:

On his return to England, Karel was able to rejoin the RAF. By January 1958 he was serving as a flying instructor with the Maritime Operational Training Unit, based at Forres-Kinloss RAF Station. On the night of 10 January 1958, he was an instructor to Fg/Off N Emsden for a night training flight in Avro Shackleton T4, VP259. The aircraft was flying night-time approaches at RAF Kinloss. During one of the circuits the Shackleton flew the pattern too high.

Avro Shackleton.

At a cloud height of 900 ft, the Shackletony flew into Haldon Hill, which was obscured by low clouds and hit trees at 800 ft and then crashed into terrain at 760ft and caught fire. Karel and Nemsden were killed and four crew members were injured.


Karel was interred at the military section at Kinloss Abbey Burial Ground and is commemorated on panel 115 of the Armed Forces Memorial at National Memorial Arboretum, Alrewas, Staffordshire, UK.


Posted in 311 Sqd, Aircraft, Biography, France, Into exile, Poland, POW, Victim of Communism | 1 Comment